


The Ghosts of Alderaan

by roryteller



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Jewish, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Jewish Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:26:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5802481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roryteller/pseuds/roryteller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's funny the things that can remind us of what we've lost. Shortly after the end of A New Hope, Leia mourns. Slightly AU – I picture both Padmé and at least one of the Organas as Jewish in this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ghosts of Alderaan

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Carrie Fisher's tweet: "From her perch high above Canters Deli in Hollywood, your half Jewish Princess ponders the world between her bagels"   
> https://twitter.com/carrieffisher/status/675841602422632452  
> At first I was going to write a cute, fluffy fic about General Organa and interplanetary bagel shop rivalries, but instead I wrote this. It is almost certainly incompatible with some of the EU.  
> Also, when I refer to Leia's parents here, I mean her adoptive parents, the Organas.

Grief was the strangest thing.

Leia hadn't cried when Alderaan was destroyed. She'd been frozen, caught between anger, terror, and sorrow, unable to accept the meaning of the planet exploding in front of her or to make sense of what she was feeling.

After that, she pushed it away. She didn't have time to mourn, running on anger and fumes, and after the destruction of the Death Star everyone celebrated, and she couldn't help but celebrate with them.

It wasn't until the day after the medal ceremony that it really hit her, over breakfast. Someone had put bagels on the table, probably for her, though she had no idea where they might have found some. She took one covered in little brown, pungent-smelling seeds, and spread some of the local soft cheese on it.

_How long has it been since I've had one of these? Since_ _Ald_ _e_ _raan_ _, I guess_ , she thought, and suddenly, as the too-dense dough and the too-gooey cheese hit her tongue tears stung her eyes, the sharp pain of homesickness and the cold wash of grief all rolled into one.

She thought of the spires of her hometown, blinking back tears. Of her father's disapproving glare after she'd snuck out as a kid, coming back with scrapes on her knees and fingers sticky from candy. Of her mother's hands and the worry she could feel in them after yet another imperial decree shook their world. She thought of the warm summer sun and the smell of the air at the beginning of spring. Of leaving for the first time, eager and a bit nervous, and of the homesickness that had unexpectedly washed over her. She thought of unknowingly leaving for the last time, unsure of whether she would make it back, but sure that it would be there, even if she didn't. That's why she had left, of course – to protect those that were precious to her, and so that others could live their lives freely, safe from the Empire.

And even though she  had officially succeeded in her mission, it felt more like she had failed . She'd been pushing aside the thought that Tarkin had chosen Alderaan because of her, that if not for her Alderaan would be safe, but now it hit her in full force, a bitter twist in the pit of her stomach,  a lump in her throat, a rage that burned just under her skin,  almost too much to bear .

She heard footsteps behind her and spun, still on edge, as ever, after all that had happened, though it was the soft swish of slippers, not the hard trot of imperial-issue boots that haunted her dreams, when she was even able to get to sleep. It was Luke, his clothing rumpled and stained from last night's festivities, his hair mussed by his pillow, a package of tissues in his hand. She stared at him.

"I just knew that something was wrong," he said, holding them out to her.

She took them, lost for words. Sometimes it spooked her a little, his ability to sense things like that, but he'd pulled her out of her thoughts when she needed it most, and for that she was grateful.

"Did you want to talk about it?" he asked as she wiped away her tears, blew her nose.

She shook her head.

"I can go, if you want," he offered, shifting his weight.

She didn't need force powers to tell he was uneasy, unsure. She shook her head, cleared her throat. At first the words wouldn't come out, but she tried again. "Stay," she said, her voice shaking more than she meant it to.

So he sat down across from her and picked up a bagel, ripping off chunks and dipping them in the cheese. _They probably don't make them on Tatooine_ , she thought as she nibbled at her own, her appetite lost somewhere in the rush of emotions that had overwhelmed her. She remembered that he, too, had lost people, killed by imperial agents looking for him. _He probably felt guilty,_ she thought, and felt a  rush of sympathy for him. She looked up from her plate, half-expecting him to be looking at her knowingly, as though he had read her mind, but instead he was trying in vain to peel a spiky purple fruit, a look of intense concentration on his face. She let him struggle with it for a moment, more for the normalcy than the humor of it, before taking the fruit from him and cutting it neatly in two with a sharp knife, demonstrating how to scoop the insides out with a spoon.

 

After a while she excused herself, her food still unfinished, and returned to her quarters. She had a busy day ahead of her, but on an impulse, she took a moment to cover the mirror on her wall with a piece of cloth, as she had seen her mother do after the death of a beloved great-uncle. And she mouthed the words she had heard her father say, and not understood at the time, though now they filled her with a bitter sorrow mixed with anger: "Blessed is the true judge."

Then she took her rage and armed herself with it, carrying the ghosts of Alderaan with her to take on the galaxy.


End file.
